From Where We Stand
by princ3ssf33t
Summary: Riza only wanted to stand under her own authority. But when an alchemical accident sends everything reeling around her, she'll need to depend on more than her wits to survive. Perhaps joining forces with a rogue alchemist also on the run is exactly who she's been looking for.
1. Chapter 1

**Somewhere in the Eastern Mountains, Amestris, 1905**

* * *

It was the sharp ring of the bell that signaled to the workers that the work-day had ended. Twelve hours they had stood on their feet, performing the same task over and over and over again, baking under the high heat radiating off of the large machines that they worked on. Often standing hunched over their machine, performing tedious work with hardly any feeling in their hands, fighting from breathing in the dust and stray particles in the air.

But it had been a good day. There had been no major accidents. Nothing for them to halt the production line while the machine was being repaired because someone had leaned too far over and their loose items became caught in the machine.

Riza remembered the sight of Mary-Ann Arbor being hauled out, half of her scalp ripped from her body, simply because she had leant too far over and one of her beautiful red braids had gotten caught in the machine. They had taken her home to her family, where they bandaged their wounds as well as they could and prayed desperately for her to make it against odds and survive the night. Their prayers had not been heard and young Mary-Ann was dead by morning.

Riza solemnly buttoned the many buttons on her coat before grabbing her pail that served to carry the lunch she never ate and made to leave the factory. She would be back before the sun broke over the horizon in the morning, and give another full day's work. Only for the cycle to repeat itself over the next day, and the day after that. Only stopping for the one day of rest required by the government, only for her ten to twelve hour shifts to begin again until the next day of rest.

It was a dull existence, but it provided food for the table and a way to keep the bank off of their property.

Riza pushed her way through the doors and out into the frozen realm outside. The wind immediately bit her face and sucked her breath away, but Riza barely noticed. It was late at night and she still had to pick up some things from the general store before she could return home and make dinner for her father. And she had to hurry, because there was only a short window of time before the general store closed it's doors for the night. Then again, on a night like this, it was entirely possible that they would have closed their doors early due to the snowstorm.

But still, she had to try. The store would not be open before she returned to work in the factory tomorrow, and the item was something she desperately needed.

Slowly, but surely, Riza made her way through the near deserted streets until she reached the main strip. Here there was no one outside. Everyone was inside their homes or their shops, out of the frigid cold and tucking in for the night. Riza afforded herself no time to be jealous of what they had at their disposal. It would do her no good in the long run. She would only descend quickly into a world of despair and loathing similar to her father's.

Through the snow, Riza made out light coming from the general store's window. A sense of warm relief spread through her cold bones. Even if they were closed, someone was there and would let her pay for what she needed. The Havoc family had known her mother's side of the family for many generations, or so she was told. Her mother had died when she was barely old enough for primary school, and nearly all information she received was secondhand about that side of the family. She hadn't realized how well-liked her mother had been before she died.

But how was she supposed to have known? Her father never spoke of her mother. He barely spoke to Riza at all. Even if she was the reason they hadn't been kicked out onto the streets yet.

Stomping her worn boots against the wooden deck, Riza made her way up to the front door. The moment she cracked it open, she could feel a rush of warm air escape into the winter air. It carried with it snippets of conversation and laughter. Riza hurried inside to keep as much of the atmosphere and heat inside as possible. Snow swirled around her as she shut the door.

There was a pause in the conversation as the man behind the counter looked over to see who had come in. His smile widened when he saw Riza standing there, and held up a finger to the people he was talking too, before coming over to greet the customer.

"Miss Riza, you look nearly frozen. Don't tell me you plan on heading back home in the storm out there?" He asked, despite knowing full well that she did. She always did. "Why don't you sleep here for the night? You won't have to walk that mile into town for your shift tomorrow morning."

Riza smiled at the older gentleman. Old Jacob Havoc was always insisting on doing things for her, like he saw her as one of his own daughters. Riza always would decline his offer. Oftentimes giving the exact same reason why everytime he asked. She couldn't stay away from her father for very long, not with his health. It was a pitiful excuse, her father's health grew worse every day, and due to his stubborn refusal to seek medical treatment, it was unlikely that he would last far into the new year.

"It's a kind offer, but I really shouldn't leave my father alone much longer." Not like she hadn't left him alone for nearly twelve hours at this point.

"Of course, of course." Jacob Havoc stepped back and began to peruse the shelves behind the counter. "I can assume that you're here for the usual then?"

"Yes sir."

Jacob grabbed a lone paper-wrapped parcel and glanced warily at it. His eyes flickered from the small item to Riza and back again. There was something going on at the Hawkeye residence, and it was more than just Berthold's failing health. But it was none of his business to pry; Riza's old man had a temper that would put the wildest wolverine to shame.

"Did any letters come in today for me?" Riza asked, gently picking at a loose thread of her coat.

"No, nothing came. Sorry." Jacob took a look at the young woman's face to see if there were any clues as to what she was waiting for. It had been the third time that week that she had come into the store—which also functioned as the town's post center—asking if there was anything for her in that day's shipment with the train.

"May I ask what it is you're so eagerly awaiting?" Jacob said handing over the small parcel to her.

Riza's small coin count was pushed back to him in payment for her goods.

"You may ask."

Jacob frowned, but let the matter slip aside. There were many secrets that spun around the Hawkeye's. Rumors as well. But such was the nature of living in a small town and keeping nearly entirely to themselves. People were inclined to whisper nasty things in the ears of anyone who would listen to them. Most were blatantly false. But there was still something about them. And Jacob could feel in his gut that some weren't as benign as Berthold and Riza played it off to be.

"Alright dear, but I expect to get the answers I seek out of you sooner or later. I always do. Remember when Jerome broke his mother's sewing machine when he was a boy? Crazy brat attempted to convince me that the fairies were the ones to break it."

A sudden protest from the back room broke through to the front, as the son protested against his old man. Jacob only laughed at his son. Riza smiled politely and tucked her small parcel into the interior pocket of her coat.

"I appreciate what you've done Mr. Havoc, but I really must be going now."

Jacob Havoc's eyes told her that he wished to protest her venturing out into the winter storm, but his mouth remained shut.

"Good night then, Mr. Havoc." Riza nodded politely to the portly man and tugged her scarf over her face before walking out into the storm.

The winds had not improved within the ten minutes that she was in Havoc's store. If anything, they had gotten worse. Riza had only walked a few meters away from the store and could no longer see the light that emanated from the window. The winter's wind bit through her only pair of boots at the widening gap of the seam between leather and the sole. One hand pressed her scarf tighter against her face, while the other followed a fence to ensure she never strayed from the road. One too many persons had frozen to death that way.

Riza's pace was steady, despite the increasing numbness in her feet and hands. There would only be a few more steps until she reached the rope indicating where the walk to her house would be. Then it would only be a short walk to the front door where she would be able to have refuge from the wind for the night. A short walk and a prayer that the sharp wind hadn't broken the rope while she was gone.

It hadn't, and Riza made it to her front door with no incidents.

The house was nearly as cold inside as it had been outside. Striking a match, Riza lit the kerosene lamp on the table in the entryway before removing her winter clothing. Once her outdoor clothing was hung to melt the snow that had piled on the outside, Riza took the small parcel from the store and her lunch pail into the kitchen. The food would hold until tomorrow, it had been removed from the heat of the machinery where she worked. Her purchase was tucked under the sink alongside where the last purchase was kept. Hopefully she wouldn't need it any time soon.

The floorboards of the ceiling above her creaked, and Riza's heart sank. If he was still in his study this late at night, it was unlikely she would be able to get some of her own studying done. Not while her father was awake and expected her assistance with his.

Nevertheless, Riza prepared a quick supper to carry up to him. Perhaps he wouldn't need her, and she could finish the chapter on Amestrian history she'd been working on for the last week. She had finally made it to the Alchemical Riots of 1765 and the complete condemnation and subsequent banning of alchemy in the country. Arguably one of the biggest events that changed the future of Amestris. Not that many really cared about it in any rate.

Most were too concerned about the technological advancements that had been made that allowed Amestris to become the leading industrial and mechanical power that it was.

Lost in her thoughts, Riza carried the tray up the stairs to her father, careful to avoid the rotten step midway on the stairs. She'd been meaning to fix the step for months now, but there was never enough time to do it. There didn't appear to be much time coming up to fix it either.

Gently, Riza knocked on her father's study door. There was the sound of a chair being scraped along the floor followed by heavy footfalls as her father marched over to the door. It was flung open and Riza found herself looking up to her father's displeased face.

"Riza! There you are girl! Where were you when I called for you an hour ago?" He gravelly voice growled at her.

She had barely opened her mouth to explain that the weather had caused the delay in her return home, when her father grabbed her arm and pulled her into the study. The supper she had been carrying was haphazardly discarded to the side as Riza was steered towards the dividing screen in the corner.

"You know what needs to be done. I would like to finish the-" Berthold broke from his sentence in a fit of coughing before continuing. "The code before the month ends."

From her position behind the screen divider, Riza undid the buttons on her dress down to her waist. Slipping her arms from her sleeves, she tied the sleeves together behind her, before slipping on a specially crafted apron to cover the front of her body. The exposed skin of her back revealed a partially completed alchemical array. She emerged from behind the panels and took position on the table that had been her place during the nights for the past month.

The cold winter storm outside was warmer than the needle used to penetrate the skin of her back.

* * *

"Are you alright Riza? Something seems a little off about you today."

Riza and some of the other coworkers she worked with in the factory had been granted twenty minutes for them to eat and use the facilities. An unexpected occurrence as they had not yet been able to fill the vacant spot Mary-Ann's death had left in the factory and were behind on production. It had been a week since the last midday break that anyone of them had, and Riza was already getting used to the limited food intake.

That fact was making it difficult for Riza to swallow the pitiful sandwich she had brought with her.

"Excuse me?" Riza broke away from the swirling mess inside her head to glance at her coworker.

The girl was a pretty thing. She had brown curls that were cut close to her head. An outcome that came due to Mary-Ann's death most likely. Riza herself had cut her hair shorter after the incident as a precaution. But despite the overall pleasant appearance, there were clear signs of her occupation, in the grime on her face and clothes, and on the callouses on her hands.

"Are you feeling ill?" The girl asked of Riza. "Perhaps your back is giving you trouble?"

Riza froze, any thoughts that could have been in her head before gone. It wasn't showing was it? No, it couldn't be. She had ensured that she was wearing the dress with the highest neck to keep her father's work from being spotted as it encroached on the back of her neck. It was also one of the darker ones, as to keep the red ink from being seen through the fabric. Only as an extra precaution though; her underclothes assisted in keeping the lower parts of the tattoo hidden.

The truth of the matter was her back was giving her a little bit of trouble. Her father had been working on the upper portions of the tattoo, having finished the bottom already, and Riza found the skin was a little more tender approaching the back of her neck. Perhaps it was because there wasn't as much between her skin and the bones underneath as there had been on the lower portions of her back. Not that there was much in those portions in any case either.

But she couldn't let anyone know that her father was working hours at night to transcribe his notes onto her skin. His secret notes. His forbidden by the government, if discovered it would lead to arrest and likely imprisonment, if not death, _alchemical_ notes.

And that was only what would happen to him. There would be no telling what they would do to Riza, the harborer of the notes. Would she be forced to undergo ways that would rid her back of them, permanently scarring her without attempting to obtain their secrets? Or would she be forced to wait as they decoded her father's work while she could do nothing to stop them?

No. She wouldn't let anyone use her the way her father was. Never again. She would take that small amount of savings she had set aside from her meager paycheck and leave when her letter came in. She would start over in a new place with a new identity, far away from Riza Hawkeye.

"Riza? Are you sure that you're alright? You drifted off a little on me there."

Riza looked at the concerned face of the young woman next to her.

"I'm fine, Ellen. Just a little tired I guess." Riza attempted to give a small smile to reassure the girl of the lie she was attempting to sell.

Before Riza could gauge how well her lie had gone down with the younger girl, the bell rang again, indicating the only break they received for the day was over and everyone was to head back to work. Riza placed her mostly uneaten sandwich back in her pail and returned it to it's place before she resumed her position in front of a machine larger than her. Six more hours and then she would be able to return to her father's house.

But only after checking again if her ticket out of this little town had arrived.

* * *

By the time her shift had finished five and a half hours later, the minor twinges of pain emanating from her back had grown and multiplied to the point where she could barely straighten her back from bending over the machines all day. The medication she had taken before leaving the house that morning had worn off well before her only break, and she hadn't the time to grab more to accompany her lunch as she left that morning.

With every caress of her heavy woolen dress, the only one she had for the frigid winter months, the irritation across her upper back grew until it was almost as if her father had not bothered with the secret array, but had simply lit her back on fire. Her shoulders screamed as she stretched and slid her arms into the sleeves of her frock coat. Nothing seemed more appealing than laying in the few feet of snow outside and allowing the cold to numb her whole body.

Even if that were the most appealing thing to come to Riza's mind, it was one of the last things she was about to do. She still needed to drop by Havoc's to see if the letter she had been waiting weeks for had finally given her the excuse she had been seeking, before returning to the house and taking care of her father. If that letter had come, she would be putting her plan into action that very night.

The bell above the door chimed as Riza pushed her way into the store and post office. Jacob Havoc was handing over a full bag of sweets to a couple of the local children, but he looked up and waved to the blonde woman that had walked through the door, indicating that he would be with her in just a moment.

Riza raised her hand in acknowledgement and meandered over to look at some of the other stuff that was available at the store. Most of which she would be unable to purchase, but was nice to look at anyway. Perhaps one day she would be able to afford such things.

It was a nice thought.

She wasn't kept waiting very long as Jacob shooed the youngsters from his store and waved Riza over to the counter.

"I've got a letter for you, Miss Riza," he said holding out an envelope across the counter.

Riza wasted no time. The moment the letter was in her hands, the paper was being torn and she was reading the words. This was it. The moment of truth. Her opportunity to make it out from under her father's thumb and make her life her own again.

But the further she managed to read down the page, the lower her heart sank. Her application was denied. She would remain here with her factory job, and her father.

Her disappointment must have appeared on her face, because Jacob reached out and rested a hand on her shoulder.

"What's wrong, child?"

Riza looked at the older man and bit her lip. She could feel the heat in her eyes as tears attempted to push their way to the surface, but she refused to allow them to come. Tears would do nothing for her. They hadn't when her mother died and her father began his crusade.

She offered him the letter.

It only took him a few moments to skim through the entirety of the thing. The closer to the end that he got the more his face contorted, like he was sucking a sour pickle. When he was finally done reading Riza's letter he set it aside and grabbed one of Riza's calloused hands. He closed his hands around hers and tugged her a little closer to the counter. Riza didn't resist and took that extra step closer.

"They're fools, all of them. You're a brilliant woman, and any academy should consider itself blessed for you to grace their halls with your intellect." Jacob attempted to smile at her. "How long have you been planning on leaving?"

Riza swallowed. Longer than she would admit aloud.

Jacob seemed to understand and patted her hand a couple of times before letting go. He took a step back and reached under the counter for a moment. When he returned he was holding one of the small sacks he had used earlier in the evening with the children and their candy. From the slight bulge to it, Riza assumed he had slipped some sweets in there for her as well.

"A gift. Don't you worry about paying me back for it, it's on the house tonight."

"Thank you, Mr. Havoc. I appreciate the kindness," Riza said, taking the bag from the older gentleman. It wasn't likely that she was going to eat any of the sweets inside, she had never been one to have the 'sweet tooth' as others. They both knew she was likely to hand the sweets inside to one of the village children, or save it to distribute amongst the other factory workers.

Riza slid the little bag into one of the pockets on her coat when the door to the store was flung open. Jacob's son, Jerome, was bracing himself against the doorframe attempted to slow the way he was gulping the air into his lungs. Both Jacob and Riza started toward the young man.

"R-Riza! Come quick!" Jerome gasped. He raised his head to look at his father and Riza. "It's your fa-father!"

"My Father?" Riza appeared at Jerome's side and helped him to stand up straight. "What happened with my father?"

There were a million thoughts racing each other through Riza's head. Had her father's time come? Had the illness he had been fighting for the past months finally captured her father in it's talons? Would he still be around for her to say her goodbyes? Had someone discovered that he had been researching alchemy for the past few years? Had they found him? Would someone come for her?

All of these thoughts were gone within a split second of entering her brain. Riza gripped Jerome's upper arm tightly.

"What happened, Jerome?! Tell me!"

Taking a breath, Jerome looked Riza in the face, brown eyes to brown eyes.

"The military. I overheard them at the station. They want your father. I don't know why, but they do. I told Jessie to stall them while I warned you, but I'm not sure how long she'll be able to do it." Jerome turned to his father. "What would the military want with Mr. Hawkeye? I doubt a ill recluse would be of any real interest to them."

But Jacob wasn't looking at his son. His gray eyes rested resolutely on Riza's figure. He couldn't see the face she was giving his son, but he didn't need to see it. Jacob could read her as well as he could read any of his own children. And he could see with the way every muscle in her body tensed and the way her hands were clasped around Jerome's upper arm. In the way her shoulders rose and her head dropped.

Riza was desperate.

It only took her a second to let the impact of Jerome's words to sink into her brain before she let go of Jerome's arm.

"I have to go."

Riza didn't look back as she ran out into the winter atmosphere outside. She ignored the calls of Jacob and Jerome as she sprinted as fast as she could toward her house.

She needed to warn her father. She needed to get him out of there. He was harsh and neglectful, but she didn't want him to be tortured by the Military. She never wanted that.

All she had wanted was to be free. To be Riza Hawkeye outside of her father's influence.

Still, with each step on the compacted snow, she ran closer to her house. The wind pushed at her back, encouraging her to move faster. If Riza listened closely to the wind while ignoring her own breaths, she thought she could make out the sounds of military vehicles following her. If they were back there, they would overtake her within minutes.

She pushed her legs harder as she pushed those thoughts aside. To dwell along those thoughts would be to hinder herself.

"Father!" She shouted as soon as she flung the door open, uncaring if it slammed into the wall behind it. It was unlikely that they would be able to return.

"Father! Where are you?" Riza took the steps two at a time. "We have to leave! The military is here! They know about your work!"

Riza threw open the door to her father's study without bothering to knock, an infraction that had led to severe punishment when she was younger. Taking a couple steps inside, Riza saw that the study was empty. Not just of her father, but of everything that had been in there the night prior. All the materials he had used to permanently disfigure her back with, gone. The ink and the needles. The scraps of paper her father had composed the pattern the tattoo was to take form of. Even the scrap of fabric that she had worn during the process was gone.

Was she too late? Had the military come and cleaned out everything?

"Hold your tongue girl! We don't need your voice announcing to the world my work!" Berthold Hawkeye appeared from his bedroom and limped toward his daughter.

Riza was unable to deny herself the relief she felt at the sight of her father walking toward her, free from restraints.

"Father! The military-!"

"Are on their way. Yes girl, I heard you when you were shouting for me. Grab your bag, we're leaving."

Berthold shouldered past his daughter and continued down the stairs with a light satchel slung over his shoulders. He didn't look back at Riza once to determine if she was following his order or not.

Riza didn't allow herself any time to allow the fact her father was still free to sink in. The military was still coming, and they were both still in danger. They needed to make their escape quickly if they wanted to stay out of federal prison. Or hanging from a rope.

There wasn't much that Riza grabbed when she went into her room. Some clothes, her good shoes, and a few personal toiletries. She closed the small bag and slung it across her shoulders and hurried to rejoin her father downstairs. She reached the door when she remembered something that she couldn't bear to leave behind.

As quickly as her legs could carry her, she ran to her bedside table and pulled open the drawer to withdraw the only item inside. The golden locket and chain threw the light that it caught onto Riza's face.

Inside was the only picture she had left of her mother. It had been a portrait taken a few months after Riza's birth. Riza was resting in her mother's arms as she sat with her father standing just behind them. Her mother's face was slightly smiling, so contrary to most of the other portraits that Riza had seen others have. Even her father's face was softer.

Of course that had stopped once her mother died.

Clutching the locket tightly in her hand, Riza dashed out if the room. There was no time for her to properly secure it around her neck at the moment, and to leave it in her bag or one of her pockets would only tempt fate further.

And she was not about to do that.

Her father was waiting for her in the hall. Berthold's icy-blue eyes watched her land every step on the stairs until she was on the floor a few feet in front of him.

"Come, our escape awaits us just over the hill in the clearing."

Riza nodded and followed her father out the back door and through the snow. With the recent snow-storm they had had, their tracks would not be hard to miss once the military arrived and found that they were no longer in their house. Riza hoped they would get far enough into the woods to put some distance between them before they arrived. Perhaps make it all the way to the clearing.

The clearing was a forbidden place for Riza. All through her childhood years, she had be able to roam anywhere she wanted on the mountainside. There were no neighbors to worry about the young girl trespassing on their property, and the carnivorous wildlife had been driven from the area due to the wealthy in town hunting for sport, rather than sustenance. The only rule was she needed to have sight in the house at all times. And crossing over the hill into the clearing did not have a line of sight to the house.

The snow was deep and hindered their escape. In addition, the extra strain from the exercise exacerbated the cough that was in Berthold's lungs. They could go no more than a dozen or so feet before Berthold would have to stop and bend over as he fought to regain his breath.

It worried Riza. But not as much as when she noticed the small red droplets falling in the snow.

"Father!" She cried out. Her arms reached out to catch her father as he collapsed against the ground.

Using the strength she had, Riza heaved her father from his face-down position in the snow to a resting position against a tree. Blood trickled down his chin and splattered against the collar of his coat. Riza knelt in front of him and attempted to wipe the blood on his face away. His feeble hand caught her wrist.

"No. It's my time."

"But, Father, I can—."

Her sentence was interrupted by the sounds of wood cracking and glass smashing. Riza whipped her head around to look down the hill toward where their house was. Shouts followed soon after the crashes. The military was there.

They were going to get caught.

"Go, leave me behind." Her father's weak voice turned her attention back to him.

"I can't. Not when they're so close behind us." Riza swallowed at the lump that had formed in her throat. This hadn't been what she wanted. She didn't want to part like this, a fugitive from the government with her father knocking on death's door.

"Listen to me. Get to the clearing. You'll find means of escape there. Start over. And whatever you do, do _not_ let anyone see the code on your back. Go. Go!"

With a feeble shove against her wrist, Berthold pushed his daughter away. For a moment Riza only looked at her father, torn between obeying and not. But something in her face hardened, she nodded once, and left.

As Berthold watched his only living relative escape higher up the mountain, he settled himself in place, waiting to be found. With a quick scrape of a pocket knife, he carved a transmutation circle in the bark of the tree he rested upon. He pressed his two fingers against the rim of the circle and activated it.

A gust of cold mountain air blew down and wiped all traces of Riza's footprints away.

"Goodbye, and good luck, brave daughter," he whispered into the empty air.

His eyes were closed before the military arrived with their guns drawn.

* * *

Riza had reached the crest of the hill before she considered taking a pause for breath. Even then she only spared a moment to look back from whence she came. The clearing was only a few dozen feet ahead of her. She would be able to get in whatever vehicle her father had stashed up there and disappear before the military could catch her.

Descending down the side of the hill to get to the clearing wasn't as easy as Riza had hoped. The snow covered everything underneath it, disguising the ice and exposed tree roots from her keen eyes. Several times she stumbled or slipped as she descended.

A small unfrozen creek appeared between the banks of snow. Riza let out a startled yell and clamored to regain her balance. It wasn't until she gripped the trunk of a nearby tree that she stopped herself from falling into the freezing water.

Taking a moment to regain her breath and to evaluate how to get across without dropping anything into the water, Riza rested her head against the tree.

What was she doing? She had nowhere to go. Her application had been denied and had no family left.

She hit the tree with her fist. This hadn't been what she wanted when she talked of freedom.

Her back burned worse than ever.

"She went this way!" A man shouted.

Riza turned to face where she had come from to see a lone soldier standing upon the crest of the hill between the gaps of the bare trees. The blue of his uniform contrasted greatly against the snow underneath his feet and against the gray-brown of the tree bark. Riza could not make out his face, the distance between them was too great. But she knew if he looked hard enough he would be able to spot her through the mass of trees around her. The dark green of her coat would see to that.

Clutching her mother's locket tightly in her hand, Riza backed away from the tree. She was going to have to jump over the creek. One slip and she would fall into the water below. Riza swallowed and took a deep breath.

There were only a short few steps to build up enough speed to clear across the divide. It wasn't enough, but there would be no going back. Not once her feet left the ground and she was flying through the air. She thought she could hear the soldier at the the top of the hill cry out at her leap, but that didn't matter.

The moment her boots touched the ground again, she was running.

Everything hurt. Everything burned. Her back, her legs, her side. Never in her life had she run for so long or so fast.

Finally it was within reach. The trees around her were beginning to clear out and Riza could see the clearing. The deepness of the snow grew the further out from the interior of the forest she ran. It hindered her progress slightly, but Riza only lifted the skirts of her dress and moved forward with a wider stride. She was so close to achieving her escape. She couldn't fail now.

With a bang, the bark on a tree in front of her splintered and flew in every direction. Riza's run stuttered before she continued on. It didn't take her long to process that it was a gunshot. That they just shot at her.

"FOOL! We need her alive! She may be the only key to the old man's research now!" Someone screamed behind her.

Just a few more feet. Just a few more.

The clearing was empty. Void of anything but snow.

"No."

Riza spun around in the center of the clearing. Desperately looking for anything she could have missed when she first dashed into the open space. But there was still nothing. No vehicle, no horse. Not even a visible path outside to take outside of the clearing. Nothing but snow and the bootprints she had created once she ran in. Riza sunk to her knees. Her hands were bare, but she gripped at the snow in front of her anyway.

"Major! I found her!"

Riza barely lifted her head to watch a soldier emerge from the woods with his gun drawn and pointed at her. He wouldn't shoot her. She knew. The military needed her alive to expose her father's secrets to them. Even if they didn't know they only needed the array on her back. She didn't need to be alive for someone to discern it.

It didn't take long for the soldier's superior officer to arrive.

"Well done Cadet. Now, arrest her. I would very much like to get out of this hell hole they call a village. Hopefully, we will be able to get back to the station and leave before the weather takes another turn."

Riza didn't have to look up to know that the weather was beginning to turn. The wind was picking up, whipping Riza's short blonde hair across her face. Loose snow was lifted from their resting place on the ground and swirled around everyone standing in the vicinity of the clearing. Light flashed from the sky as the clouds rolled down through the mountains.

She waited. Her freedom was gone, slipping from her grasp before she even had the chance to fully grasp it for her own. The moment the iron cuffs were strapped her wrist she would become a non-entity. Another faceless and nameless victim that would be long forgotten as soon as those who knew of her died.

A sudden shout drew Riza's attention from the snow beneath her.

"What the hell is happening?!"

Riza rose her head to see that it wasn't the weather that was blowing the wind and snow around in the clearing. Nor was it lightning in the sky that was illuminating the area. It was lighting from the ground.

It was alchemy.

Startled, Riza attempted to pull her hands from the ground, but found she was unable too. Her hands were pinned to the ground as the transmutation grew in power. It was as if she were the one activating the transmutation.

But that wasn't possible. Riza knew absolutely nothing of alchemy. She had asked her father to teach her what he knew when she was young and still in school, but he refused. His response was that he was not going to potentially lose his daughter to alchemy.

It didn't take very much to see the irony now.

When Riza imagined performing alchemy when she was younger, she never imagined that it would feel anything like this. She didn't expect there to be any pain involved. The sense of burning that had been on her back and in her muscles was back and it was intensified tenfold. It permeated down to the innermost organs and there was no relief in sight. She felt as every cell in her body was being torn apart from each other violently. If this was what alchemy felt like every time a transmutation was performed, she wanted nothing to do with it.

Distantly, Riza heard someone screaming. A voice in the back of her head told herself that it she was hearing her own screams.

She was being pressed upon from all directions. Had she the mental processes, she would have evaluated that this was how it felt to be fruit she crushed for their juice.

The light from the transmutation was growing brighter. Riza had to turn away from looking at where the two soldiers had fallen backwards in their haste to clear the area. Alchemy was taboo, and hardly anyone knew what happened during the process. It was safer to retreat to a good distance away should anything unpleasant happen.

Using every ounce of energy that she had left in her, Riza focused on prying her hands away from the ground. If she could disconnect from the unseen circle, perhaps she could stop the transmutation and everything would stop and go away. Perhaps everything would go away.

She couldn't keep the scream from leaving her body as she freed her hands from the snow. There was a moment of relief at the broken connection, before everything went dark and Riza collapsed into the melting snow.

* * *

 **The outskirts of Central, Amestris, 1763**

* * *

The night was chilled. Only a light dusting of snow covered the flat ground outside the blooming city of Central. The winter had been a mild one so far, possessing none of the violent winter storms that had plagued them in the previous years.

It eased the hasty retreat of the three men on horseback.

"I thought you said that the Major wouldn't be there for another few days!" One of them shouted.

"How was I supposed to know that he would come home early!" Another shouted. "I'm not all-powerful! I'm just an alchemist!"

A third man barked out a laugh. "An alchemist with the most extensive intelligence network I've seen! Your network rivals the king's!"

The alchemist said nothing to either of the men he was riding beside. His grip on the reins tightened and he urged his steed to run a little faster, pulling ahead of the other two. The dark hood that was still clinging to his head slipped off, exposing the dark hair underneath.

The third man sidled up to the first once the space where the alchemist was cleared. A flop of blonde hair peeked out from the dark hat that was on his head.

"What's the matter with him? So what, we didn't get the intel we wanted. We'll have another opportunity as soon as his informant sends her report."

The first man sighed and squeezed the bridge of his nose underneath his spectacles.

"It's not that simple Jean. Were you not paying attention when we left? We weren't headed to Central for the intel. We were there for the _informant_. There's reason to believe that her cover was compromised, and that her life was in peril."

"Shit." Jean glanced back at the trail leading back to Central. "Shit, I'm sorry Maes."

Maes pushed his spectacles back up to the bridge of his nose and stared at the back of their alchemist ahead of them.

"Don't be bothered too much by it. The trouble we ran into was not your doing."

"Still, I could have been more attentive."

"Well, yes." Maes gave Jean a brief look. Jean scowled back at him.

The horse in front of them slowed from its gallop to a trot, before it stopped completely on the trail ahead of them. Jean and Maes pulled on the reins of their horses to stop alongside their third man.

"What is it?" Maes asked. His hands drifted toward his hip where he kept a couple knives alongside a pistol.

Jean likewise rested his hand on the rifle that was slung beside him.

"Don't you feel that?"

Maes and Jean glanced at their partner before glancing down at the ground around them. There wasn't anything happening. Earthquakes were rare in Amestris, especially in the area around Central, but not completely unheard of. But there was nothing happening. Not even the tremor of loose pebbles on the ground from any pursuers.

"Roy, there isn't anything to feel. If this is still about the informant we left behind in Central, you know that it wasn't your fault. What's going on with you?" Maes dropped his hand from his knives and reached out for the other man. Roy brushed off his concern with a swat of the hand.

"But it's everywhere. How can you not feel it?" Roy turned to look at his friends, a wild look in his eyes.

"Listen. There's nothing to feel. The only thing we should be feeling right now is the pace of our horses as we get a fair distance away from this place."

Roy muttered to himself as he allowed his horse to move a few steps away from the other two. His attention was rapt to the mountains. He was oblivious to the exchanged glances of his companions and the short whisperings they shared concerning him.

"I have to get over there."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. What the hell are you talking about? There's nothing in the mountains. It's nothing but certain death to head—."

The rest of Jean's sentence was cut off with the sound of hooves beating against the ground with shouting accompanying them. The trail they had just come from began to illuminate under the light of handheld torches.

The military had caught up with them.

"Shit. Shit. Fuck. We gotta go." Jean jerked his head toward the direction they were heading prior to Roy's stop. He didn't wait for any response before he took off.

Maes nodded and reached out. Without hesitating, he slapped the dazed face of his friend who had made no indication he was aware of the military being seconds from catching up with them. Roy had still been muttering that he needed to head up to the mountains when the sudden slap cut it off. When he had turned back to look at Maes there was a look of disbelief on his face as well as anger.

"What the hell? I bit my tongue."

Maes only jerked his thumb back towards the oncoming party of pursuers before he spurred his horse to taking off after Jean. Roy glanced up to see the torchlight from where they had come, and was quick to follow after Maes and Jean.

Nothing was said between the three of them as they ran. Although it wouldn't have mattered if they had. The military had caught a glimpse of Roy as he rounded the top of one of the few hills in the area, and their efforts doubled to catch up with the fugitives. And as soon as they reached the level ground again, they began to fire their muskets.

Aiming with most muskets would be difficult. Most times when someone fired, the slug would end up a few feet away in something that wasn't being aimed at. Not entirely a bad thing when those being fired upon was lined up in a straight row, but on horseback aim was almost non-existent. But those were most muskets.

These were the military's muskets.

Despite the proclamation by the king and the military that alchemy was the devil's hand on earth and that it, and anyone found to be practicing it, should be cleansed from existence; Roy and the others fighting knew that the king's government had been utilizing alchemy to modify their weapons to improve their aim.

Better aim combined with the highly trained officers of the Amestris military was a deadly combination. Whether on horseback or not, the men fleeing had lost more than one friend at the hands of a military officer and understood the dangers of what they were up against.

Which was why Roy was working frantically with the materials in his bag. If he could finish his calculations in time, he could have a live grenade to drop behind them and create some distance between them and the military.

"You better be working on a plan there Roy! Cause I would hate to end this hanging from the end of a rope. My wife will be severely displeased with me."

If Roy had the mental facilities to spare, he would have rolled his eyes at his friend. Fortunately, Jean covered that for him.

"Of course he does! Gracia would kill him if he didn't."

"Alright, that should about do it." Roy secured the flap of the small bag, and glanced over his shoulder to see how close the soldiers were behind him. Too close for comfort, but far enough where Roy and the others wouldn't get caught in the blast.

Turning slightly in his saddle, Roy lobbed the small package after touching the circle that had been stitched into the leather. The shimmering light from the transmutation lit up the night far better than the torches some of the soldiers carried. Once the soldiers noticed the transmutation, they attempted to get out of the way, for they all understood what happened when Roy performed alchemy.

But it was too late. The bag exploded, sending soldiers flying from their horses, and engulfing everything within a fifteen foot radius within a ball of fire. Those that weren't blown from their steeds or engulfed in fire reared back, torn between their order to pursue, and their desires to help their comrades in any way that they could.

The retreat of the three men slowed as they took in the damage created by the alchemic grenade, and to see if any of the soldiers would continue the pursuit. Jean and Maes had pistols at the ready in case anyone made it through the fire.

None came through. Relieved that for the moment they were free, Maes and Jean holstered their pistols again.

"Come on. Let's get out of here. I'm sure Grumman will want to know what happened tonight. And," Maes directed his horse away from the burning aftermath of Roy's attack, "I'm sure that he'll want to discuss our next move, now that we've potentially lost a key informant."

Jean agreed and moved to follow Maes' lead.

Roy stared at the flames he created for a moment or so longer. Then his head gave a slight twitch and he looked around him, before resting his gaze on the two other men. He nodded to them and they began moving again.

As they continued along, no longer at the fast pace they had been before, but not slowed down to a walk, Roy could feel what had caught his attention before the soldiers had caught up with them. This time, he kept his mouth shut and focused on moving his horse forward.

But it still called to him. A vibration deep in his soul that told him to go up the mountains. To find what was causing the disturbance there.

Whatever it was, it would have to be dealt with later. He needed to finish his mission first, report back to Grumman, before he could go off and do anything as foolhardy as heading up the mountains to search for something he knew nothing about.

But he promised himself. He would go and find out what was calling him up there.

Even if he had to disobey orders to do so.

* * *

 **A/N: What is this that I've gotten myself into? I don't know, all I know is that the idea had been bugging me since last year and I finally sat down to write it out earlier. I can't say when the next chapter will be coming out, considering how long it took this one to come out, but hopefully it'll come out within the next month or so. Please leave a review, I would really appreciate it.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Somewhere in the Eastern Mountains, Amestris, Night**

* * *

Waking up after a hard night was not something that was unusual for Riza to deal with. Increasingly so within the past few weeks when her father forced her to lay perfectly still long hours into the night to ensure that the code he tattooed onto her back would come out without any faults. Precede that with long hours bent over some of the machines at the factory, and Riza would wake sore and stiff to the point where she could barely bend over to button her shoes. Even with the painkillers she had received from Havoc's store.

But this time topped every single one of them without question.

Her eyes fluttered rapidly as she attempted to pull herself from unconsciousness. When she finally opened her eyes, it hardly made a difference. There was no mistaking that it was night, with the inky blackness that filled her vision. Even if the glitter of the stars was more vibrant and brilliant than she had ever seen before.

Slowly, Riza raised herself into a seated position. Every bone and muscle in her body ached. It was reminiscent of the time when she was younger and lost her footing while hiking one of the larger slopes in the mountains around her home. She had tumbled down to the rocks below, a thirty-foot ride, and miraculously managed to escape without any serious injury. Her mother and father scolded her fiercely, but seeing as Riza learned her lesson about diverting from the trail already in place, applied no further punishment than to repair the torn clothing from her tumble.

She felt like that. Only multiplied to the tenth degree and resonating from every fiber in her body. And without the inevitable scrapes and bruises that she had gathered.

Then again, with the atmosphere around her, and the near pitch darkness, it was near impossible to determine her physical condition by sight. Gingerly, Riza began to work her hands up and down her extremities to feel for any broken skin or bones she would need to take care of before leaving.

There was nothing broken thankfully. Although there was some swelling in her left ankle, she determined that it was no more than sprain. All it needed was some ice and to be elevated for a while, and then she would be good as new. Even if some of the medicine she had forgotten stowed under the sink would benefit her at the moment.

Her back was another story.

Somehow in the confusion of the transmutation, Riza had ended up on her back. Her landing could not have been pleasant, judging by the headache and the nausea she was fighting. But when she reached behind her to assess the damage as best she could, her fingers pulled away dark with the thick liquid of her blood.

Riza's mind quickly jumped to the integrity of the tattoo on her back before she pushed that aside. It would almost be better if somehow the code was damaged or ruined. Then she wouldn't have to be concerned about someone finding it and decoding it. Good riddance to it, if that was the case. Look at where it had gotten her.

Riza looked around to try and assess where exactly she was. She was still in the clearing. It was night, that much was obvious, and although she didn't have any ideas how long she may have been unconscious for, her guess was that it couldn't have been for than more than a few hours. Which raised another question.

Why was she still in the clearing? She should be someplace else, under lockdown and already being interrogated as to where her father's research was. The military wouldn't leave her alone in the woods, not when they assumed she knew her father's work—not after seeing her perform whatever form of alchemy that was in the snow.

Riza stared at her hands. She almost didn't believe it. After years of being unable to perform any sort of alchemy, why had she suddenly been able to activate an unseen circle? She wasn't gifted with the ability to tap into the science that her father was so devoted too. Not for lack of trying though. She had snuck one of her father's books on basic alchemy and attempted to perform the simplest alchemic transmutation but failed. When her father found the book in her possession, he made it perfectly clear that she was not to attempt any alchemy ever again.

There was still a scar on her hip to remind her.

But how had she done it? She shouldn't have been able to activate any array. Especially one of unknown design. The ground had been covered with snow and she had seen no trace of a circle.

Riza glanced at the ground around her. The snow was significantly less than it was when she first entered the clearing. Even by the light of the dim stars she could see at least a foot of difference in snow depth. Near the forest line, she could even make out a few blades of grass poking out from underneath the snow.

But that was impossible. The snow couldn't possibly have melted over a foot of snow without the sun beaming down. And if she had been on the ground in the clearing the entire time—if that much snow had melted in the few hours that she had been lying there—she would be soaked from head to toe with the water.

Wincing, Riza pressed her clean hand against her temple. Such in-depth thinking was aggravating her already pounding head. If she wasn't careful, her headache would turn into a full-blown migraine, and in the situation she was in at the moment, Riza couldn't afford to have her mental facilities hindered in any way.

Slowly, Riza pushed herself to stand on her own two feet again. With all her aches, nausea, and headache, her feet stumbled, but she righted herself within a few shaky steps. Her meager bag slid closer to falling from her shoulder before Rize pulled it back to a secure place. She needed to get somewhere safe for the night. The weather may have been more mild than it had been earlier in the day, but there would be no telling at how quickly that could change and another blizzard would hit.

But where could she go? Not back to her house, the military probably would stay there for a day or so to ensure to toss the place from top to bottom to ensure that her father's notes was nowhere on the property. And there were no neighbors deeper into the mountains that were within walking distance to where she was. She supposed that she could head back into the village, but it was likely that there were troops there as well.

Her situation was getting worse with every second that passed.

Groaning at the increasing pressure in her head, Riza leaned against a tree trunk. It was a young tree and leaned slightly with her weight. Some loose snow dropped from the upper branches and splattered the ground around her. She shivered in response.

There had to be someplace where she could huddle for the remainder of the night. She was in the mountains, there had to be someplace where she could hide away from the wind and snow. Perhaps there would be a cave somewhere nearby. It would be simple for her to set up a makeshift camp if she could find a place that only needed some minor adjustments to ensure she wouldn't freeze to death in the time left before the morning came around.

Riza pulled away from the tree and began walking again. Her arms folded across each other as she pondered over everything that had happened that day. How could the military have known about her father's studies into alchemy? He never made his way into town anymore, and Riza had certainly never said anything about it. Of that she was absolutely positive of.

She shook her head to clear her thoughts. It would do her no good to dwell on to what had happened. The military didn't have her father's secrets, and they would never get them if she had anything to say about it. It didn't appear that she was being pursued by anyone, and she succeeded in getting out from underneath her father's thumb.

Despite the uncertainty of what was happening all around her, Riza couldn't help but feeling a sense of freedom within her grasp that she had never before experienced. Perhaps this was the moment where she could finally step out from underneath the labels that were pressed upon her; to become someone who _she_ wanted to be, rather than what _they_ wanted.

Riza couldn't fight the hope rising her chest as she walked down the mountainside.

* * *

 **Central City, Amestris, 1763**

* * *

There was nothing outward that indicated just how aggravated and royally pissed off the major was. Each step was no heavier than the one before it, and made relatively little noise on the stone floor when compared to the attendant or the general with him. His face was passive, and his deep-set eyes portrayed boredom and uninterest as they passed by cells with prisoners muttering to themselves in the dark.

It had been their own faults that they had landed down in the prison here. They were the lucky ones really. Others that had been convicted of treason received the death they deserved shortly after appearing before the judge. Although there were those that thought hanging was too polite a death for crimes against the crown.

The major didn't care one way or the other. Whether these men lived or died, they served their purpose for him and he no longer cared about whatever happened to them.

Besides, he wasn't there for them. He had a bigger, more personal problem that needed rectification.

The attendant stopped and directed the major and the general to a cell on their right. The light cast upon the grime-covered walls which seemed to take a green shine. The barest hint of a scowl appeared upon the major's face.

The general walked up to the bars and kicked at the metal dividing them from the occupant inside the cell.

"Get up," he barked, the mustache on his upper lip twitching. "In the name of the king, we have some questions for you."

There was the faint noise of shuffling from within the cell, followed by a feminine groan. A figure moved out of the darkness and into the range of light thrown by the small lantern in the attendant's hands.

She was petite, barely coming up to the shoulders of the attendant. Her hair was falling from where it was pinned underneath her cap, and a bruise was already beginning to form around her throat. Grime and dirt had already embedded itself into the fabric of her servant's dress and apron. There was a tear at the seam of her left shoulder, and an abrasion on her skin there. She glanced at the general for only a moment before turning her attention to the Major that stood just behind him. A sultry smile spread across her face.

"Major Archer, I'm flattered you would bring your partner with you, but it'll cost you extra for the additional person." Her words rolled off her tongue with ease.

"Quiet whore!"

The woman barely moved her head to address the general. Her head tilted so she was looking down her nose at him as best she could with her diminutive height.

"My name is Vanessa. If you wish to question me, address me properly. I don't take kindly to 'whore.'" Vanessa couldn't help but sneer at the men on the other side of the metal bars. Even if the decision to end her life rested in their very hands, she refused to bend her will to be anything she was not.

"Enough." Major Frank Archer finally opened his mouth. His voice and tone was flat. "We don't have time to play your little seduction games. We have questions about those men that broke into my estate tonight, and we expect to receive them. Perhaps, if you cooperate we could negotiate something along the lines of a release from this cell."

Vanessa's eyes trailed up and down Archer's body for a moment as her face pinched. She rested a single finger against the side of her cheek before she spoke.

"Pity, you were never really good at those games either. Heavens knows how you manage to keep your wife satisfied."

Archer took a step towards the woman, calm and poise gone, replaced with a sudden surge of fury he could do little to control. It was only the hand of the general on his chest that stopped his advance towards the young brunette woman behind the bars.

"At ease, Major," the general warned.

Understanding the veiled threat coming from his commander, Archer stopped his advance and took a small step back from the bars separating the woman from them. His light blue eyes contained ice as he glared across the dirty space at the small woman. She still held the smug look she had on her face when they had arrested her and put her in her cell. It made Archer sick.

Almost as sick as he was at the thought that she had been playing him the whole time and he had been unable to see through the façade.

"Miss Vanessa, it is imperative that we some of the answers we seek. Who were those men that attempted to break into the Major's estate earlier this evening?" The general's question was spoken politely, but the low tone hinted at what would come if he failed to receive the answers that he was seeking.

"My apologies gentlemen. Seeing as I'm here and not with them at the moment, I would say it is quite likely that I never met up with them in the chaos that became of the Archer Manor in the early hours of last evening. That is to say, I'm not sure who received my message about needing an extraction."

Archer merely breathed. Even if his nails were biting into the palm of his hand, he would not rise to the temptations of the woman behind the bars. It would do him no good to be swayed by her words. Just like it would do her no good to continue to evade the general's questions. If he didn't receive the answers in a timely manner, they would have to resort to some more extreme measures to obtain the information. Although, given that she had been passing along information since she had arrived, it was possible that she had received some training to resist interrogations.

He continued to watch as the general continued his interrogation of _Vanessa_. It followed a pattern that was easy to track. The general would ask a question, and the woman would deflect with an innuendo directed at their persons.

It grew tiring after a while.

Even the guard that had escorted them down there was disinterested. He held the light high in the air, but his attention was anywhere but. The blatant eavesdropping that he had done earlier in the visit had dropped off completely, and he gazed into the flickering of the fire instead of watching the other prisoners.

The sound of footsteps on the stone floor caught Archer's attention. The general barely gave a glance in the direction of the sound and continued with the uncooperative woman behind the bars.

Once he was within range of the light cast by the the guard's lantern, Archer could see that it was a young cadet. Baby-fat still clung to his reddening cheeks as he ran closer to the officers in the corridor. His stop in front of Major Archer was unsteady, the soles of his shoes slipped upon the stone underneath him. Archer was sure that it was due to urine from one of the prisoners.

Luckily, the young man righted himself before Archer needed to intervene and save the young man from landing in the waste.

With a hasty salute and greeting, the cadet handed a piece of paper to Archer. He then gave the same salute and greeting to the general, to whom he should have addressed first, before he made his way back from where he came.

Archer took a step closer to the lantern and broke the wax seal. While he wish he could say that it wasn't anything of real importance, there was no denying that a message delivered in the dead of night was always of the utmost importance. And for the messenger to come and find him while he was in the middle of an interrogation in one of the most heavily fortified prisons in the country, it had to be.

The words he read solidified what he had suspected. The message _was_ of great importance. And it had even given him something to contribute to get the whore to start talking, rather than just spew words from her mouth.

"—I'm telling you sir, there is no way for me to accurately identify who came into the major's estate tonight—"

"General, sir." Archer interrupted the woman who had posed as a servant in his home without second thoughts. She was worth nothing in comparison to what he had learned.

"What is it Major Archer?" The general was not enthused at the interruption. Although he hadn't been enthused at the progress of the interrogation if the grip on his sword's handle gave Archer any indication.

"Sir, if I may, I have some information that may speed this interrogation along."

The general raised an eyebrow in question. His eyes darted down to look at the paper Archer held in his hands before going back to Archer's face. Archer kept his face as impassive as always, but tried to convey with his eyes that this was something that would benefit them greatly. The message must have gone through, because the general nodded and stepped aside, allowing Archer to take a few steps closer to the cell's bars.

When Archer spoke, everything had changed from how he had begun the interrogation. Whereas before he'd been curt with his questions and succinct with responses, now he relaxed back into the persona of a gentleman. Rather like a host at a party.

"My apologies for calling you a whore earlier. I was unaware of your bloodline. How is your Grandfather doing these days?"

Vanessa's mouth stayed closed. Her lips were pressed into a thin line and her eyes narrowed as she attempted to figure out Archer's game. She brushed her dark-blonde hair from her face.

"I wouldn't know. I haven't seen him in years. Not since my mother's death." She maintained the same manner she had from the beginning. "I doubt he knows where I am at this point."

Archer chuckled.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that Miss. I believe your grandfather has been keeping a close eye on you for a while. It was his men that broke into my estate this evening. Tell me, does the name—" Archer glanced down at the paper to be sure "—Mustang mean anything to you?"

There was a short inhale on behalf of the woman inside the prison cell. Archer afforded a glance at her through his eyelashes. In the flickering torchlight, her skin faded in color. He continued with what was in the message sent to him.

"According to eyewitness testimony, it was Mustang who broke into my estate this evening and fled when soldiers were called to apprehend him. I assume that his intended purpose had been to retrieve you and the information that you have tucked inside that brain of yours. Fortunately for us, he failed. Which leaves us with a question, what would the man of a loyal governor—and of royal blood, mind you—want with a suspected spy in the capital city? You wouldn't happen to know anything about that would you?"

Vanessa looked at Archer dead in the eyes. Her thin lips had relaxed back to their full state, and her chin rose again in defiance. Her bright blue eyes shone as she looked from Archer to the general.

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."

Clearly finished talking, Vanessa walked away from her place at the bars to the corner of her cell where some ratty blankets had been gathered for her bed. With as much dignity as a princess, she lowered herself down to the pile and leaned against the wall. Her arms folded across her chest and she leveled her stare at those across the metal bars.

The general didn't say a word as he turned on his heel and left the prison, Archer and the attendant hot on his heels.

* * *

Not a word was spoken as the general and Major Archer made their leave of the prison and climbed into the carriage they had arrived in. The air was filled with the sounds of horses hooves colliding with the stone road and wood creaking. It wasn't until they were well away from the prison that they spoke to each other.

"Do you think she knows anything about the plans?" Archer asked.

"That would depend on how much information you let slip around her when she was under your employ," was the general's quick response.

Archer was not a man who was easily flushed. He had built a reputation around his nonchalance and general apathy towards most everything, and it reflected him well. The response still elicited a slight cough to tickle the back of Archer's throat. Archer made sure to clear his throat completely before answering the general.

"I made sure never to breath an air of any of our plans while I was in my home, sir. If she learned of them, it would have been through someone else. She frequently was the one to run errands for the mistress of the house."

Archer watched as the general pondered over what he had said. Everything was quiet save for the horses and wheels.

"Whether or not she knows anything, it's too dangerous to keep her alive. I want her terminated by the end of the week."

"Yes sir."

* * *

 **Eastern Territory, Amestris, 1763**

* * *

The sun broke over the horizon as Roy and his party stopped to rest. Roy had been awake for twenty-four hours at this point, give or take a few hours, and was about ready to keel over from exhaustion. And he wasn't the only one. Maes and Jean both had to stop themselves from drifting off as they rode closer to the mountain pass that would take them to East City.

It was only when Jean didn't manage to duck in time to avoid a low-hanging branch that the men called it a night and pulled away from the main road to find someplace to sleep. They weren't going to be very particular about sleeping on the forest's floor. Each one of them had spent more than their fair share of nights with a rock jabbing into their back as they travelled.

Roy couldn't help the groan that escaped his throat as he sat down against a large tree. His eyes shut as soon as his head leaned back to rest against the tree trunk.

"You can say that again, buddy," Maes agreed.

Roy groaned again.

"Smart-ass."

Roy smirked to himself and pulled the blanket closer to his neck. They really should have started a fire, but with the army on their tail, they didn't want to invite the possibility that they could be spotted while they slept. Even if it wasn't very likely for the army to follow them this far into Eastern Territory.

Besides, Roy had spent the colder nights then this with less to keep warm with.

Roy sunk into the hollow between the roots of the tree behind him. It wasn't the most uncomfortable place he had ever slept, but there was a root digging into his lower back, and no matter how he attempted to shift his position, the root was always there. It was only when he turned slightly to his side that he found the most relief from the root, and settled in to sleep. He had closed his eyes and was beginning to drift when he heard his friends' voices drift from where they settled down for the night.

"I'm sorry for earlier," Jean whispered to Maes. His whisper was nearly as loud as when he talked normally.

"It's a lesson for you to pay closer attention in briefings next time. You're a smart man Jean, but sometimes you forget to apply that brain of yours." Maes' voice was softer; Roy could just make out what he was saying over the ambient noise of the woods.

There was a small snort from Jean.

"Right. Because I'm well-known for my intelligence."

There was a lull of quiet that grew between the two men. Roy could hear the shifting of leaves and sticks on the ground as they moved in their position. If Roy wondered what they were moving to look at, he didn't have to wonder very long.

"How do you think he's taking it? He knew the informant rather well didn't he?" Jean asked.

There was some quiet for a moment more before Maes answered. Roy could see the spectacled man nodding his head in his mind's eye.

"They grew up together. Roy's aunt took the pair of them in after the accident that killed both of their parents. Roy and Vanessa were nearly inseparable until the day when Roy decided that he wanted to become an alchemist, and from what I gathered, that drove a large rift between them. They've managed to patch it up over time, but it's a touchy subject. I haven't been able to extract a full story out of Roy, and I consider myself to be his best friend, no offense."

"None taken. Although it's hard to believe that your friendship began because you stole the man's lunch."

Maes chuckled. "I suppose. But that's Roy for you. Didn't your friendship with him start because you accidentally pushed him into a pile of horse shit and he wouldn't leave you alone until he had exacted his vengeance?"

Jean grumbled to himself as Roy smiled to himself in the dark. Thinking back on it, Roy managed to make all of his friends and allies after some initial event that Roy probably took a little too personally. Maes constantly told him that he was a—.

"Vindictive little shit."

There it was.

There was a sudden silence, and the lightness in mood that had come from talking about the way Roy met his friends was gone. Roy could feel it, even as he pretended to sleep and not eavesdropping upon the conversations of the two men behind him. If there had been a campfire, Roy was sure that it would have grown dimmer to reflect it.

The quiet lasted a few minutes longer and Roy was beginning to think that the others had fallen asleep. He was contemplating wrenching his body out of the semi-comfortable position he had settled into, when Jean spoke again.

"The governor isn't going to be pleased when he finds out we weren't able to yank his granddaughter out of there."

"No, he's not," Maes agreed.

"How long do you think she has before they burn her?"

A strangled, humorless laugh escaped Maes' throat. "They burn _witches_ , Havoc. She's a traitor. She'll be hanged in front of a crowd. Or tarred and feathered. Perhaps if they're feeling generous they'll shoot her and give her a quick death. But that's not going to be very likely with the current regime's attitudes on punishment and traitors." He paused before answering the question. "Not long. If they haven't gotten rid of her by now, I doubt she would last until next week."

"Poor woman."

"Indeed."

Maes and Jean's voices were quiet after that. Roy figured they settled down for the night to get as much sleep as they could. His suspicions were proven right when he heard Jean's snores float through the night air of the small area they had tucked themselves into.

They were right about the amount of time left for Vanessa. There was not much time left for her before the government decided to pull the trigger and use her death as a warning to all others who attempted to spy against the government. Then everything they had worked so hard to set up would be all for naught.

But Vanessa was resourceful. If there was a way out, she would find one. The extraction was only a formality. Protocol. She was entirely capable of pulling herself out of any situation that demanded it.

"Roy? I know you're still awake."

Roy exhaled and turned his head to look at Maes. Maes was settled under a tree on the opposite side of a rock. Jean was snoring beside him. Both had heavy wool blankets pulled up to their necks as Roy did. Maes was peering over his spectacles with a knowing look at Roy.

"Tell me what that was all about earlier. That weird behavior on the road. You've never wanted to go up into the Eastern Mountains. Not since what happened with your parents."

Recognizing that he was in for a long conversation, Roy sat up and looked across the boulder at his oldest friend. His blanket fell slightly and the night air nipped at the freshly exposed skin. Roy didn't make a move to readjust it.

"I'm not entirely sure. All I know is that there's something up there. Something important. It's almost like it's...like it's _calling_ to me. Are you sure you can't feel it?"

"Feel it? You're _still_ feeling it?" Maes sat up a little straighter to look at his friend, eyes bright.

"Yes. No. It's hard to describe really. I can feel it, yes, but it's not as strong as it was when I first felt it. I think it's fading the farther away I travel."

Roy was telling the truth. The sudden humming that vibrated inside him was losing intensity the longer they had traveled into the night. Roy was filled with partial relief when the humming faded. No longer did his body feel like it was on high alert for something. The hairs that stood up on his arms and the back of his neck returned to laying against his skin. But the relief was accompanied with dread. What if the feeling completely went away and he was unable to regain the feeling and find out what was out there?

"Don't do anything stupid while we sleep," Maes warned. He settled back against the tree he was leaning against, pulling the blanket tighter around his neck.

"Excuse me?"

Maes turned his head and looked across the boulder to Roy's surprised face.

"Don't give me that look. I know you almost as well as you know yourself. You want to go back and figure out whatever that was that was calling you back there. And knowing you like I do, I know you would be stupid enough to wait until Jean and I fell asleep before going out on your own. I'm telling you right now that you need to have at least some sleep in you. And preferably some food as well." Maes settled back down against the tree again and closed his eyes. "If you attempt to sneak off in the middle of the night without our knowing, I will personally drag you back to the Governor Grumman by your balls."

Roy's face twitched, but he made no other movement to indicate that his friend's threat made its mark. He sat still and watched as Maes fell asleep before settling back against the tree. The small root dug deeper into his back. Roy ignored it.

Even if he hadn't thought about it, Maes was right. He would have probably woken up after a few hours of sleep and saddled his horse and ventured back into the mountains to see what was there. With or without the help of his companions. He had decided as much earlier in the evening.

Still, the call of sleep overpowered the steady humming that vibrated in his person. Despite the root digging into his back, he found his eyelids dropping down to cover his eyes in sleep. There was still a great many things he needed to figure out. Like what he was going to do about the calling, and what he could do for Vanessa. And most definitely how he was going to tell Grumman that his granddaughter was facing execution at the hands of the government that he had pledged his loyalty too.

It was not going to be a relaxing sleep.

* * *

 **Somewhere in the Eastern Mountains, Amestris, Night**

* * *

Riza was exhausted. There was no doubt about it. Her footwork was no longer as sure as it once had been and she found herself stumbling over small roots and rocks that appeared out of the dark around her. The palms of her hands were scraped up from the bark of the trees around her, and from keeping herself upright.

She needed to find a place to rest for a few hours before she could continue her journey. She hadn't been this physically exhausted since she first started working her shift at the factory.

Riza glanced back up the mountain where the clearing was. There were so many questions swirling in her throbbing head. So many of them didn't have easy answers and would plague her for some time before she could come up with any semblance of an answer.

She tore her head away from where she came and looked forward. There was a cave a few yards ahead of her now, and it would provide her some shelter for the night. It wouldn't be much, considering she had nothing but the spare clothes in a sack to keep her warm, but it would keep any snow from covering her while she slept.

There wasn't much in the cave. Not that Riza had been expecting anything to be there in the first place. But there was minimal amounts of snow on the dirt floor of the cave, and a slightly raised ledge that would help her keep her body heat from the cold ground.

Riza walked toward the small ledge. It would be a tight fit, but Riza had always been small, so she wasn't too concerned about the space. She didn't toss and turn in her sleep to her knowledge, so falling off while she slept wasn't a big concern to her.

She pulled her sack off her shoulder and dug through it looking for something to lay on the rock below her. Shoving aside her spare knickers and stockings, she finally came to the spare dress she managed to stuff in at the bottom of her sack. Its condition was marginally better than the one she was wearing and she had considered it to be her sunday best.

Laying it down upon the small ledge, Riza made sure it covered everything before she climbed up onto the little ledge. The rock was uncomfortable to sleep upon and all the layers between her body and it did little to temper the firmness of the stone beneath her, although the cold was reasonably tempered.

Tucking her small satchel of clothing under her head, Riza fell asleep without a thought as to what she was going to do when she woke up.

* * *

 **Central City, Amestris, 1763**

* * *

The estate was cold. Even with fires roaring in nearly every fireplace throughout the estate, there was nothing to combat the cold atmosphere that permeated through everything. Frank Archer didn't see a soul as he walked deeper into his home. He wasn't surprised at the sight. The early evening had been one of excitement much of his staff was unaccustomed too, and many of them would have taken the opportunity after everything died down to sleep it off.

Archer allowed them that. They weren't soldiers to command, and the domestic affairs he left to the hands of his wife.

The stairs creaked under his feet as he walked up the stairs. With each step, he unbuttoned his coat, ignoring the continuous squeaks of the wood underneath his feet. He pulled his arms from the sleeves and draped the coat over his arm. It wasn't worthwhile to put the coat away in the wardrobe, he would have to be up in a couple of hours to attend to the rest of his duties, according to the grandfather clock standing in the entrance hall.

A single candle lit the hallway, and Archer passed by without a glance at it. The light from the small flame didn't make it far, and couldn't penetrate the blackness that surrounded his room. He didn't need the light to accomplish what he needed. Everything was always in it's proper place.

He draped the coat across the back of the chair, before he sat down on it. Reaching down, he slid his shoes from his feet and set them in their place to the left.

The buttons of his vest were next. Each movement of his fingers was methodical, in and out, freeing each button in turn. The vest fell open after he finished with every polished button on his chest. It was partially removed from his shoulders when the bell the housekeeper had set up outside the front door rang.

Archer turned sharply. He vaguely remembered his housekeeper asking if she could install such a thing. The poor woman was getting hard of hearing in her old age, and Archer had dismissed her, telling her to take it up with his wife. Apparently she had.

The ringing continued with no sign his housekeeper waking at the sound to open the door.

Archer grit his teeth and stood to answer the door himself. He was most likely going to be the one the person on the outside needed to see this early in the morning. He ignored his coat and shoes as he walked down the squeaking stairs to the front door. His vest continued to hang unbuttoned over his shoulders.

Opening the door enough to peek through the crack, Archer saw a soldier standing on his stoop, bleary-eyed from the time of night. Morning.

The soldier caught sight of Archer through the crack in the door and stood at attention quickly.

"Sir!" His hand snapped to the side of his head. Archer opened the door a little wider.

His duty didn't seem to be done for the night.

"At ease. What do you have for me?"

The soldier relaxed his stance, but reached out a hand. A letter was clenched there. Archer pulled his door open a little more and grabbed the letter. He recognized the official wax seal on the back that came from the office of the king. Archer refrained from opening it; the soldier still stood on his stoop and had no right to look at the contents within the letter.

"Is there anything else soldier?" Archer's voice alluded to the dismissal.

"Yes sir. You've been ordered to report to General Raven within the hour." The soldier nodded once to Archer and turned on his heels and began to walk away.

Archer looked down at the letter in his hand before looking back at the retreating back of the soldier. He waited until the man was off of his property until he ripped through the seal and read the script written on the inside. It was vague by design. Archer would no doubt get more details once he reported to General Raven.

And despite the warm bed that was waiting for him, Archer trudged back up the stairs and redressed before heading out again in the early morning air.

* * *

By the time Major Frank Archer arrived at the offices of his commanding officer, the sky was already beginning to change from the black of the night sky to the rich blue of the early morning. Archer fought a rising yawn as he knocked on the door leading into the office. There wasn't much pause before Archer was given permission to enter.

The fire was roaring in the fireplace and there were candles lit all over the room to illuminate the many maps hung on the walls and cast across tables. Archer walked in and stood on the plush rug. General Raven didn't look up from the paper he was reading for a few moments, but when he did, his face was cut into a wide smile.

"Good morning Archer! Fancy going for a bit of an early morning ride?"

Raven was too jovial in his question, and Archer wanted nothing more than to cut the smile from commanding officer's face. Archer dug his fingernails deep into his palms and responded with his own question, not attempting to disguise the disgust in his voice.

"Where, may I ask, am I headed at such a god-forsaken hour? Because I don't have the patience for a long goose-chase. My estate was broken into earlier this evening, and I've been dealing with the fallout of that all night."

Raven dropped the paper he was holding to his desk and leaned over it to get a good look at the bags forming under Archer's eyes. His blue eyes went icy. And finally, the unnatural smile that cut across his face dropped.

"My condolences. Does it have anything to do with that traitor bitch in prison?"

Archer's spine remained as straight as it had been when he walked into the room, so there was no way he would be able to betray how closely his commanding officer had hit the mark. Still, he was unable to keep from grinding his back teeth for the moment before answering.

"I'm sorry, General Raven. I'm not under liberty to say at this moment." Archer hoped the man would drop this line of questioning before he even gotten started. He would be getting no information out of Archer that night.

Luckily for him, Raven seemed to understand that as well and leaned back in his chair, heaving a great sigh.

"Damn intelligence bastards," he muttered to himself. Raven rubbed along his goatee before brushing the matter aside. "Nothing I can't handle when heading down to speak with them myself."

"Now, Archer, the matter at hand," he continued, leaning forward in his chair. "Due to the recent restrictions being passed upon alchemy, it's been no secret that there has been resistance to the new direction the government has taken on this ' _science_.' Some of these have even taken up arms to protect what they believe is their right. This is making the king very nervous."

Archer remained silent. None of this was new information to him. It was common knowledge that none of the upper echelons of their monarchy were pleased at the use of alchemy. The military was a little more lenient on the use of alchemy, largely only due to the weapons that it was able to produce for them with little manpower.

Raven continued on.

"Now with most of the alchemists eliminated, or being monitored by us, any influx of alchemical power is cause for alarm." He paused to ensure Archer was comprehending his message clearly. "And earlier this evening, there was a substantial flux in that power in the Eastern Territory. Our local intelligence has narrowed it down to a small range of peaks in the mountains there, but they lack any sort of manpower to fully investigate the vast range there. To help alleviate some of the burden, we are going to send you along with a small platoon of men to assist in the horses and men are all ready for you down in the courtyard for you to leave when this briefing is completed."

Archer nodded. There was nothing he could do. Orders were to be followed. Even if it meant that he was going to be staying up for another dozen hours or so as he made his way through the Amestrian wilderness with a platoon at his back when all he wanted was to sleep off some of the day.

"We want you to go out into the mountains there and find whoever it was that caused this flux. We can't allow for anyone with potentially a large amount of power at their disposal to wander around freely. We want the man back alive, but no one would object if there were a few parts that went missing to ensure that he comes quietly. We have a few questions about his little resistance movement that's been growing. Is that understood Major?"

"Sir, yes sir."

Satisfied with the consent, Raven opened one of the desk's drawers and pulled out a folded paper. It was tied with a length of twine to ensure it would stay closed. Raven handed it over with no words, other than to tell Archer that contained inside was the location of where he was to meet up with the local outfit, and further instructions about what to do if and when he found the alchemist they sought.

Afterward Raven nodded, leaning back into his chair. "Very well. You're dismissed. Happy trails and good luck."

Archer saluted the man seated behind the desk and walked out of the office and down to where his horse and his men awaited him. As he approached his mount one of the lowest ranking soldiers came forward and presented him with a cup of steaming tea and a small pastry. Tempted to wave them aside, Archer took them both after settling into his saddle.

Swallowing each good quickly, he dropped the cup back into the waiting soldiers hands and spurred his horse to move forward.

It was going to be another long day.

* * *

 **A/N: Did I say it would be up in about a month? Whoopsie-daisy, it's been what, three? four months now? I'm really sorry about the long wait. Life simply got in the way, like it always seems to do. But hey, now I'm a college graduate, so there's that. I swear that Roy and Riza will be meeting each other soon, like within the next chapter or so, but we needed to get things set up. Please, leave a review. It means so much to me.**


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